


Staying Afloat

by plague of insomnia (chiealeman)



Series: Drabbles [4]
Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Don’t copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Human Sebastian Michaelis, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, sebard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-09-29 16:04:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20438738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiealeman/pseuds/plague%20of%20insomnia
Summary: “Nightmares and twisted memories were like a cold, bleak ocean Sebastian often found himself drifting through, constantly treading water in an attempt to stay afloat so he wouldn’t drown, swallowing down the pain and darkness he’d spent most of his life battling. ”Sebastian’s depression pushes him to destroy his work, but Bard comforts him and helps him on the road to recovery.





	Staying Afloat

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this story came to me because my depression had gotten so bad that I looked at my writing and was convinced it was all awful and wanted to delete EVERYTHING in my google docs. 
> 
> Instead of doing that, I imagined this story instead. I wasn’t able to write it when I was super depressed (it really did come out awful), but a few weeks later the clouds parted enough for me to be able to write this.
> 
> This story is set in the same universe and with the same characters as “The Promise” (the drabble immediately before this one if you’re in the series). It stands alone, but it will make more sense if you read that story first.
> 
> I may eventually turn this into a multichapter fic, especially if there’s enough interest.

Light shone from every window in their cozy Heights home as if attempting to fight off the early morning gloom. Bard didn’t find the sight at all surprising as he pulled into the driveway. Ever since Sebastian’s uncle had been released on parole, he’d been on edge. As Bard stepped out of his truck, exhaustion pulling every muscle, back aching from another long shift at the restaurant, he wished he could afford to take some time off. So he could stay with Sebastian, help his husband to feel safe again.

Unfortunately, fear and flashbacks, mingled with depression meant the normally productive writer wasn’t working at all. Sebastian had reluctantly taken a hiatus from his ghostwriting, freelancing, and even his personal work. They still got a few pennies in residuals and royalties, but it was up to Bard to shoulder the weight of keeping the bills paid and the lights on that kept the darkness at bay. It meant picking up every extra shift he could and dipping into their meager savings, but this was temporary. Bard’s biggest worry right now wasn’t ensuring he met the month’s mortgage payments or stayed awake during a double shift. It was knowing how many hours Sebastian was alone with the toxic spewing of his damaged mind. Every night he arrived home and walked through that side door into their kitchen was like stepping straight into a nightmare, stomach clenched with dread. Would today be the day Sebastian lost his battle? When the poisonous lies his mind wove into a snare finally entrapped him and stole him away from Bard for good?

The seemingly endless work was beginning to take its toll as Bard dragged himself wearily through the house, shrugging off his chef’s coat and bundling it under his arm as he headed for the stairs, eager to crash, too exhausted to even shower. As he passed the living room, he noticed the TV was on, so he detoured to shut it off. A bundle of blankets that took up the length of the sofa caught his eye. A mound of used tissues and the discarded box littered the floor. Bard perched on the arm and very lightly touched the quilt.

In response the mass shifted, the covers parted, and a dark-haired head emerged, looking drained, yet fully awake, eyes and cheeks puffy. “You’re home,” Sebastian said, relieved.

Bard frowned. When he left for work that afternoon, Sebastian had been cocooned in nearly the same position as he was now. “Don’t tell me you lay her the entire night.”

Sebastian’s only reply was to slip an arm out so he could take hold of Bard’s nearest hand and hold it close to his face, as if to stave off the subtle tremble through their connection.

“Have you eaten anything?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Bard leaned in so he could smooth some of his husband’s inky hair away from his face. “You need to eat. I know you don’t like the way the meds make you feel, but we agreed that if you were going to try to deal with this at home, without drugs, that you needed to take care of yourself. That means sleeping and eating, drinking water and basic hygiene.”

Sebastian pushed himself up, the blankets falling to his waist, revealing that he was wearing one of Bard’s sweatshirts, which draped loosely over the taller man’s thinner frame. Reluctantly, Sebastian had admitted once that he liked the reassurance of his husband’s smell when Bard couldn’t be around, and wearing it helped him feel safe when his anxiety meant Sebastian felt anything but.

Bard pulled Sebastian into an impromptu hug. “Come on. I’ll make you something quick and then we can both go to sleep together.”

“You must be tired.” Sebastian’s excuse came out muffled as he buried his face in Bard’s side. “I can eat tomorrow.”

“Nope. You’ll eat now. Eggs take less than five minutes. Come on.” Bard rose and offered his hand to help Sebastian to his feet.

* * *

Sebastian sat at the counter and watched numbly as the man he loved expertly diced onions and peppers and grated cheese for the omelet he was preparing. A slice of cheddar would have been more than enough food in Sebastian’s opinion, but he kept that to himself. Food was how Bard communicated best, since words didn’t always come easily to him. As tired as he was, cooking was the gruff blond’s way of reminding Sebastian that as worthless as the depression and PTSD episodes made him feel, Bard loved him, would always love him.

“Were you able to write at all today?” An innocent enough question, but Sebastian had hoped not to hear it.

“I tried,” he mumbled, hoping Bard would leave it at that.

Instead, Bard set his knife down and looked over at Sebastian, the space above his nose between his brows dimpling in concern. “Something happen?”

Sebastian sighed. “I realized my writing sucks, I have no talent, and there’s a reason I have to settle for ghostwriting under other people’s names because I can’t get any of my own stuff published.”

Bard frowned. “You know that’s not true.”

Chipped black nails tapped idly on the counter. Bard didn’t deserve sass, but Sebastian truly didn’t feel like what he’d said was a lie or a distortion. He’d spent the day struggling to hammer out a sentence or two, only to read it over in disgust. Turning to some of his other work in hopes of being inspired, of proving to himself that his depression and self doubt was coloring his opinions of himself had only made him feel worse. Each word, each paragraph only served to cement in his mind that he was worthless, a failure, a no-talent hack who’d been deceiving himself for years. Bard was probably only with him because he felt sorry for Sebastian.

“Hey.” The sound of a chair protesting against the floor as it was moved, then a creak, and a hesitant touch of a hand against Sebastian’s cheek, forcing his attention to Bard, who had taken the seat beside him, sitting sideways so he could look directly at his husband. “I wouldn’t have fallen in love and decided to spend my life with you if you weren’t amazing.” He smiled and pressed a kiss to Sebastian’s forehead.

Although Bard’s encouragement and touch spurred some warmth into the ice around his heart, Sebastian couldn’t manage a smile. Would Bard still think so when he learned the truth of what Sebastian had done today? If the cook had to forever be the breadwinner for a deadbeat husband? Love could only stretch so far, after all. Sebastian just had to look at his own parents' relationship. Their failing marriage had meant both were eager for Uncle Aleistor to swoop in and keep Sebastian entertained. Uncle Al, the “savior” who had made a lonely, awkward child feel special, feel wanted. . . . 

Sebastian shivered violently, bile rising up so quickly he clasped his hand over his mouth even though he knew his stomach was empty.

Acting quickly, Bard handed Sebastian a large cup and smoothed his shoulders. “You’re OK,” he whispered over and over.

Sebastian set the cup aside, swallowed carefully, and buried his face in Bard’s chest. “Please don’t make me eat.”

Bard sighed; Sebastian liked the way he could feel it through their connection, the expansion of the large chest, the rise of shoulders before they fell again. Large rough hands braced on the taller man’s back. Sebastian wished he could stay like this forever, shielded from himself and his problems, totally enveloped by the sound of Bard’s heart and breathing, the scent of his sweat tinged with the smell of food cooked in oil that clung to his ruddy skin. Nausea still danced in Sebastian’s stomach, but he ignored it as exhaustion pulled strongly at him from all directions.

Finally, Bard pushed Sebastian away gently, holding his shoulders as if to keep the tall man from sinking down into a heap on the floor. “Just this once. Let me clean up and we’ll head upstairs.”

* * *

“I deleted everything,” Sebastian admitted once they were snuggled together in bed, Bard in only his boxers, the tall man in his underwear and the sweatshirt he’d refused to relinquish.

“What?” Bard’s hand stilled where it had been smoothing along Sebastian’s back.

Without shifting his head from Bard’s chest, Sebastian replied, “My writing. All of it. None of it was salvageable, so I just trashed it all. I was tempted to print it out so I could have the satisfaction of burning it, watching the embers rise up into the sky until it was nothing but ash.”

“Seb,” Bard said on a sigh, his hand carding through his husband’s dark hair now as if to soothe them both.

“I know, I know,” Sebastian whispered tiredly. “Insert pep talk here about how wonderful I am. Can I get a raincheck? I already feel doubly shitty about it. I don’t need a reminder of how I probably flushed the next great American novel down the metaphorical toilet.”

Bard held Sebastian a little tighter and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I love you.”

It was Sebastian’s turn to sigh. “I don’t know why.”

Without pausing to think, Bard replied, “Because you put up with me.”

A smile worked its way onto Sebastian’s stubborn face, and he felt more warmth fill his hollowed chest. “That _ is _ quite a feat.” They were both quiet for a moment, and Sebastian could feel and hear the shift in his husband’s breathing. Unsure if Bard was already asleep or not, he whispered, “I love you. Thanks for putting up with me, too.”

* * *

Nightmares and twisted memories were like a cold, bleak ocean Sebastian often found himself drifting through, constantly treading water in an attempt to stay afloat so he wouldn’t drown, swallowing down the pain and darkness he’d spent most of his life battling. Fortunately, as he woke, he found his head was still above water, and whatever torments had haunted him as he slept lay dormant beneath the sea. Slumbering monsters eager to engulf him, so he only submitted to sleep when Bard was home. He couldn’t risk being tugged beneath the waves, lost in the illusion of memory.

Sebastian inhaled the lingering scent of his husband, burying his nose in the sleeve of the sweatshirt he wore, the comforting, familiar smell grounding him like a life preserver. It gave him something to cling to even as he felt tossed by the relentless tide. He soon recognized other recognizable, reassuring aromas: coffee and bacon the most prominent, and when he finally risked opening his eyes, he was just in time to see Bard striding in through their bedroom door, tray in hand laden with steaming food.

A loud gurgle caught Sebastian by surprise and he threw a hand over his disloyal stomach.

“I knew you’d be hungry. You don’t have to eat it all, but you do have to eat.”

Sebastian sat up as he watched Bard set the tray up over long legs, attending to every detail from the parsley garnish on the omelet to a tiny flower from their garden he’d slipped into a small improvised vase. He had prepared eggs, bacon, toast and pancakes, along with orange juice and coffee. According to the clock it was closer to lunch than breakfast, but it was Sebastian’s favorite meal of the day, and he appreciated the time and care his husband had put into the meal.

“Thank you,” Sebastian said as he reached for his fork, confused when he noticed a thumbdrive resting neatly in one of the complicated folds of the napkin. He plucked it out, turning it over as if expecting it to speak and reveal its purpose.

“I backed up all your files not long after we got news about . . . you know who. I was worried you might do something you’d regret with them. I may not have all the newest changes, but at least you haven’t lost everything like you thought you had.”

Sebastian felt his sinuses burning and carefully set the USB drive on the tray. Bard wasn’t big on words, but he always came through with his actions. Knowing Sebastian well enough to anticipate that he might become so depressed to destroy his work and taking the time to make copies of everything was exactly the type of person Bard was. No judgment, just food and a literal way of saying, “I’ll back you up.” 

Bard carefully perched on the edge of the bed beside his husband and linked his fingers with Sebastian’s far longer, more elegant ones, smoother, not covered in calluses and old burns. “We will get through this. Together. I promise.”

That made Sebastian smile faintly, even as tears struggled to break through. He refused to let them fall. Not now. He had shed more than enough over the past few weeks, and he was ready to stop wallowing in self pity and start trying to fight again. It was tiring being buffeted by waves constantly, but he wasn’t alone. He had someone to hold him when he felt ready to give in to keep him from sliding beneath the surface. Someone to help him stay afloat, to support and cherish him.

“You’re not the one who has to get through this, though, right? I’m just dragging you along.”

Bard’s face fell.

Sebastian shook his head and squeezed his husband’s hand. “I just mean I want to count on you. Not _ rely _ on you. You know?” He inhaled sharply to try to keep his emotions in check. “This is my shit that I have to figure out how to deal with. I don’t want you to burn out because I’ve completely fallen to pieces.” 

“That’s what love is, though, right?” Bard said as he poured some syrup on the pancakes with his free hand and cut off a chunk, tempting Sebastian with it. “If one falls apart, the other picks up the pieces, and the two of us put them back together again.”

Sebastian accepted the bite, savoring the sweetness. Even when they made the same recipe, Bard’s pancakes always tasted better for some reason. Sappy or not, Sebastian wondered if it was the love Bard imbued every dish he prepared for his husband. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he said once he’d swallowed.

Bard brought their linked hands to his mouth and kissed the top of Sebastian’s hand, holding it to his face for a long moment. “I’m just glad you gave me a chance all those years ago so I could be here for you today.”

Sebastian took his hand back so he could eat, but he was smiling for real now, and he felt better than he had in weeks. “You’re such a sap.”

“I won’t deny it. But you love it.”

Pinking cheeks was Sebastian’s only answer as he dug into his breakfast, that first bite seeming to remind his body of how long it had been since he’d last eaten properly.

“Don’t eat too much or too fast,” Bard cautioned, since Sebastian’s stomach seemed to sour along with his mood. “Maybe after you eat we could shower? Together?”

“I’d like that.” Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time they’d been _ intimate _. Bard had showered with Sebastian plenty over the past few weeks, but it was platonic, simply a way to ensure Sebastian got clean without passing out. He felt guilty that they hadn’t had sex since before he got word of his uncle’s release, but when he could stand to be touched at all, his body wasn’t up for sex. Quite literally. Bard was patient, but Sebastian knew it wasn’t fair. Yet another way he had dragged his husband down with him. He couldn’t guarantee anything right away, but perhaps today was a start, the sun finally appearing over the horizon, through the clouds after a wicked storm.

For the first time in weeks, the ocean’s swells seemed to calm, and Sebastian could smile at Bard without fear of drowning.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this, please leave kudos and share/reblog/send me asks! You can find me on tumblr @plague-of-insomnia
> 
> If you really enjoyed this and want to see more Sebbard content, please comment and let me know!
> 
> I love feedback, whether it’s short or long comments, constructive criticism, telling me what you liked most, etc., etc.!
> 
> I try to reply to comments 💕.
> 
> I wrote this bc I was feeling down and needed a little pick-me-up. I hope it helped you smile a little too.


End file.
